


at least the moon knows i love you

by lexifrog52



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Felix Hugo Fraldarius Being an Idiot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Over the Years, POV Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Pining, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Time Skip, Practice Kissing, Pre-Time Skip, Sylvain Jose Gautier Being An Idiot, blue lions - Freeform, felix lowkey has a handkink, kinda not a kissing practice later, they needed onen, yes this is a kissing practice fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26725096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexifrog52/pseuds/lexifrog52
Summary: "Felix had his first kiss when he was thirteen, with another boy who also happened to coincidentally be his best friend.It hadn’t been his intention really, and the first time it happened Felix couldn’t say he had thought too much of it. Sylvain had his first girlfriend and didn’t want to admit to her he had never kissed anyone, which made him turn to the only logical answer and ask Felix to help him practice. And when problems like this occurred, what were best friends for? "Felix keeps count of the times he and Sylvain kiss throughout their lives, and the moments in between that define their relationship.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	at least the moon knows i love you

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first sylvix fic! i wrote this over the course of a month or two, and i worked really hard on it. i hope yall like it too! it's very near and dear to my heart

Felix had his first kiss when he was thirteen, with another boy who also happened to coincidentally be his best friend.

It hadn’t been his intention really, and the first time it happened Felix couldn’t say he had thought too much of it. Sylvain had his first girlfriend and didn’t want to admit to her he had never kissed anyone, which made him turn to the only logical answer and ask Felix to help him practice. And when problems like this occurred, what were best friends for? 

Sylvain had shifted on Felix’s bed, his longer legs and clumsy feet already hinting at how tall he would get. Recently he couldn’t stop tripping over the limbs that used to be so familiar to him. He had always been taller than Felix, and his preteen hopes of catching up with him eventually had already been dashed by Sylvain’s first growth spurt. 

“She’s really pretty, and I actually like her, I think,” Sylvain explained to Felix. He had always liked to chase girls around, but this was the first time Felix had ever heard of an actual relationship possibly blossoming, or it going beyond menial flirting. There was no resentment or jealousy when he felt happy for him. Afterall, Sylvain was his closest and dearest friend. He didn’t know if the sentiment was truly shared, but following him around everywhere with no objections made him think they were best friends. Felix didn’t think he was closer with anyone other than his brother than he was with Sylvain. 

“And, so, well, I need you to help me be able to kiss her. I don’t want to be bad at it, and I’m pretty sure she’s done it with other people. So, please, help me learn.” His eyes had been wide and earnest, and Felix didn’t like to disappoint him in any matters, much less ones that were clearly important to him. 

“So you want me to… kiss you?” Felix tilted his head, cross legged and leaning back on his pillows. The sun shined on Sylvain’s face the way only winter dawns could light up someone’s face, the light making his eyes look almost clear and see through. He didn’t know too much about art, but when he liked to think more poetically he thought that Sylvain would be a wonder to an artist. Even in his boyish state, the lines that made up Sylvain were so concise and bold Felix knew he was special. Clearly other girls had thought so too.

“Um, yeah. Please. I’ll spend extra hours training with you if you do it.” And Sylvain smiled, and Felix sighed, because whenever Sylvain smiled that like Felix knew he would say yes. He had seen it work a thousand times on other girls and even some boys in the training ground.

“Yeah, sure.” Felix shrugged, Sylvain scooting over on the bed. It wasn’t really a big deal after all. Practice didn’t count as a true first time. He started to sit up straight, Sylvain’s hands hanging in his lap awkwardly. They looked like they belonged to someone else with how big they were compared to his thighs.

“Uh, okay.” Sylvain cleared his throat, looking at the floor, his thigh touching Felix’s knee. “So, it’s completely okay, right? Are you sure?” His voice was a higher pitch than normal, and Felix sighed. Who would’ve thought Felix would’ve been the calmer one in this situation? Sylvain was the one who always chased after girls. Felix didn’t know why he had never liked one, but he figured he was still young. He was a late bloomer always, especially compared to people like Sylvain and his brother.

“I said it’s okay already. I wouldn’t have if I was uncomfortable with it.” Felix smiled a little to try and ease Sylvain’s tension, feeling the areas where they touched more acutely than usual. 

“Okay, okay.” Sylvain laughed a little, and it was too breathy to be normal, before putting his face right up to Felix’s. 

Their noses were almost touching, and Felix suddenly forgot if he had brushed his teeth, and resisted the urge to lean back again. It was soon obvious to him that viewing Sylvain’s face from this angle was much different than viewing it in other perspectives. His eyes were more green up close, and there were a few freckles high on his cheeks next to his eyes. Felix remembered what they were doing and nodded, and Sylvain paused before shyly pressing his lips to Felix’s. 

It wasn’t anything special, not like he had heard Ingrid describe it from the various books she had read. Sylvain’s lips were warm, and softer than he had expected despite being slightly chapped from the cold air, and Felix’s eyes were wide open unlike Sylvain’s, who’s were squeezed shut. He only remembered he was supposed to close them when Sylvain pulled away. There hadn’t been any fireworks or butterflies, or sparks. It was just a kiss, and a rather short and chaste one at that even if it was warm and nice. Felix didn’t think a girl who had experience in such an area would care too much for it.

“How was that?” Sylvain looked at his hand gripping the bed sheets instead of Felix’s face, and he thought he could see pink warming up the back of his neck, though it might’ve just been a reflection from his hair. Felix thought carefully about his words, because while he didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, he knew in Sylvain’s embarrassed state that phrasing would be important.

“Well, I suppose it was good, though I don’t have the best experience to be commenting on this. I didn’t think it was anything special though.” Felix lazily shrugged, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was growing too long, and starting to resemble his brother’s. He needed to get it cut.

“Nothing special?” Sylvain pouted. “Okay, let’s try it again.”

He blinked. 

“Again?”

The other boy cocked his head. “Yeah, again. It’s like a new sword maneuver. I have to keep practicing to get it better otherwise I’ll do it wrong.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah… is it… okay if we keep practicing?”

“Sure.” Felix leaned forward, waiting for Sylvain to close the distance. 

The next kiss lasted a little longer, Sylvain using more pressure when he leaned in. It was still sweet, but more solid, and more established. He liked this one better, and when Sylvain pulled away Felix thought about what Ingrid had said to him about kissing, and what he had seen other people do when he gave his advice. It was hard to visualize it, but if he tried he could.

“Maybe hold my neck or face? I’ve seen other people do that, and it might be unnatural if you tried it without any practice. That one was better though.” Felix knew it never felt natural to do a sword move for the first time, and kissing was supposed to be like that. He didn’t really try to add anything to it, as he was just the training dummy. Plus, Felix had even less experience than Sylvain probably did even if they both hadn’t been kissed by anyone other than each other. 

Sylvain nodded, and waited for Felix to indicate he was ready before moving in. His hand came up to cradle Felix’s neck, the short strands running through his fingers as his thumb came to caress his cheek. The touch was hesitant, his thumb barely moving until Felix started to sink into the touch more reflexively. As soon as Felix did, he remembered, _no, in fact, he should not be doing this,_ but Sylvain’s movements became bolder as his other hand came to grab Felix’s and squeezed, and Felix could forget his own sensibilities when his eyes were closed. Felix could feel Sylvain’s callouses brush against his own, almost identical. Sylvain had large hands, even though Felix’s fingers were almost as long as his. His lips were more insistent, beseeching Felix’s to respond. They almost did, before Felix pulled away. It was easier to put common sense away when his eyes were closed, but it never truly went away.

And it was common sense that when your best friend kissed you for practice, you didn’t kiss back.

_Ever._

He could objectively say that one lasted the longest, and was the best though. 

“Yeah, that one should be best. I bet she’ll love it, it was a pleasant experience.” Felix moved back, hinting that practice was over for today. There was a weird pit fall in his stomach.

“Alright, let’s hit the training grounds then.” Sylvain grabbed his lance and tossed Felix’s sword to him, and then they were on their way to a different kind of practice, one that ended with Felix in a clear win. 

They had two more practices after that, one ending early when a maid caught them bringing Felix lunch when Sylvain hadn’t closed the door all the way. After that they were more careful, and had one more session a few weeks later. They had no reason to continue, as Sylvain’s girlfriend had broken up with him, so they took a pause. Felix didn’t forget about it in the time that followed, but it wasn’t a very present thought. It was more of an, “Oh, that happened” thing, than an, _“Oh, that happened”_ thing.

They stopped when Felix’s brother died. 

Looking back on it, Felix’s life stopped when his brother died.

  
  


The next time Sylvain asked to practice, Felix was fifteen, and Sylvain was seventeen, and Felix still hadn’t got his hair cut.

A few girl’s had remarked on how Sylvain was a bad kisser, and Felix was required to get to the root of the problem. Felix hadn’t kissed anyone since the last time they had, and he found himself comfortable with the idea of that. Who else would he kiss? Dimitri was an absolute no even if their relationship hadn’t been strained as of currently, as well as Ingrid. 

That only left Sylvain, and Felix couldn’t be expected to actually _look_ for people to interact with.

Sylvain had other friends, had potential partners, so it made sense he’d kiss people who weren’t Felix, and he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like this was a serious thing. Felix was the training dummy, and Sylvain was practicing the new battle techniques he had learned. 

Felix had no reason to say no, and it wasn’t like these moments were a burden on him. They were just something that happened.

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong! I even tried something new, and then she said it was sloppy, and gross. Sloppy? As if,” Sylvain scoffed, his hand covering his eyes as he laid on Felix’s bed with a groan. “I can’t have rumors of me being a sloppy kisser spread Felix, that’s the worst thing a man such as me can have happen. You do understand, don’t you? And they aren’t even true ones! I’ll have you know I’ve been called an amazing kisser by multiple experienced ladies.” Felix hummed in agreement, before Sylvain suddenly shot up. He pretended to not resent how much taller his torso was than Felix’s. The practice had been planned so Felix could figure out what seemed best, but so far nothing had been practiced except for Sylvain’s vocal cord use. If he was going to keep whining, Felix would much rather be working on a new sword maneuver in the courtyard.

The sun was setting, and Sylvain’s hair was luminous in the summer glow, red and shining, and Felix wondered if he ever had looked that pretty to another person. He doubted it, and wondered why he even thought Sylvain looked nice. Sylvain had definitely changed since the last time they had been in this position, his shoulders broader, his movements accustomed to the length of his limbs now. 

“Alright, tell me if this seems sloppy to you.” He didn’t have time to find out what constituted _sloppy_ , or even prepare himself for when Sylvain’s hand lifted Felix’s chin up, and he descended on the shorter boy’s lips. 

It was much different than his thirteen year old self remembered, not the shy beginnings of young boys just starting to hear their voices start to get low. This was much bolder, more needy as Sylvain deepened the kiss, lightly sucking on Felix’s bottom lip. Sylvain’s hand held the back of Felix’s head up as he leaned farther in, the longer strands twisting in his fingers, and Felix was shocked at how much he enjoyed it. It was all he could do to close his eyes. What else was he supposed to do? He was the dummy, and they were supposed to be unresponsive, even if Felix’s own traitorous face begged to kiss back and lean forward as well. It was the natural expected response after all.

Felix was ashamed to say he felt out of breath when Sylvain pulled away, his lips parted and eyes wide. If his cheeks were flushed then there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe he couldn’t tell in the darkening shadows. Sylvain had the full brunt of sun, while Felix was sequestered in the darkness he cast.

He looked at him and for a moment Felix thought they were frozen in time in the summer twilight, and for a split second Felix thought that maybe Sylvain could think he was pretty. Only for a split second though, because Sylvain pulled right back.

“How was that?” Sylvain was enthusiastic as usual after the short moment had passed, and Felix didn’t really understand why his thoughts were so scrambled, or why he had even thought any of the things that he’d been imagining recently, or if that moment after the kiss had even happened. That certainly hadn’t been what he had been expecting, and it was now perfectly clear to him that things were different. Felix couldn’t kiss anyone else, but Sylvain certainly could, and that made Sylvain distinct from him, and his abilities far higher. Felix didn’t like that fact, but he also didn’t know what he could do about it.

“That was good. I don’t think that was sloppy, it seemed very tasteful, and it was overall very nice.” He was surprised at how composed he seemed, as if he hadn’t just been completely surprised. “Maybe use both hands next time? It might get awkward with a hand just hanging limply at your side.” It was a weird pointer, but Felix didn’t really have anything else to say. When they were younger it was different, both of them exploring how best it was to kiss. It was an even playing field. 

Felix didn’t know what to say now. What could he, to a person who had two years of experience on him, and who had dozens of people behind him? He had only ever kissed Sylvain.

Had only ever _wanted_ to kiss Sylvain, and that was a weird revelation to make when he was sitting on Felix’s bed and expectantly looking at him. 

So Felix sighed, and nodded, and Sylvain kissed him again. This time it was a lot more expected, and Felix could relax. It was the same as the last one, and Felix could say he enjoyed it without being freaked out at all.

That was until Sylvain splayed his hand on Felix’s lower back, and his back arched instinctively, a small gasp escaping his lips, which was what Sylvain apparently had been waiting for. Even with a more filled out body to compare them to, Sylvain’s hands were still large and almost covered the entire area. Sylvain kissed him even more urgently, cradling him as he continued to press in, taking advantage of the small moment of shock and kissing him even deeper. He could only hope to attempt and hold on to the shreds of sensibility he had left, Sylvain gleefully laughing after ripping them all up in his mind. And Felix couldn’t help but kiss back, his hand about to start moving to hold Sylvain’s side. Felix felt his heart skip a beat, and Felix felt his veins freeze after he realized that. 

That was not the plan. This was not what he had meant to do.

The number one rule was don’t kiss back, and he was about to grab onto him, like a stupid lovesick girl who was about to swoon. 

Felix pulled away sharply, not looking at Sylvain’s puzzled expression and furrowed brows, and ignoring the heat on his neck and cheeks. He was not a girl, much less a love sick one at that. No matter what gender he was he didn’t think he would be love sick over someone like Sylvain at least. 

A small part of his mind whispered to him that even if he was in love with Sylvain it’s not like it would be reciprocated.

“That’s enough for today, that was really good. I think whoever it’ll be will love it. I don’t think we need to do anything else today.” He refused to mention that he had also loved it. 

“Okay, great. Thanks?” Sylvain smiled, blinking a little bit before grabbing his lance and stopping at the door. His eyes were still a little dazed, which was strange, because Felix doubted the kiss had affected him in any way.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll be at the training grounds, alright? Be there soon.” 

Felix nodded, sitting there for a moment more and putting his dry throat out of his mind. He needed to put that out of his mind. His heart hadn’t done anything irregular, he had just thought it had, and he certainly hadn’t felt anything more than unbiased enjoyment, because yes, kissing someone _was_ nice. He should apologize to Sylvain for that after training. He had just choked a little on his spit.  
“Alright.” Felix whispered to himself, and then he got his sword and went to the training grounds. 

It was their own little arrangement, and Felix forgot to apologize, and Sylvain didn’t ask him for help again. 

This time, Felix had thought about it more than the other times. He eventually convinced himself it was the same as usual in a week though, and then he focused on training again. Afterall, what was there to think about?

Felix still hadn’t kissed anyone other than Sylvain when he caught him and another girl at the academy maybe a few days after they started. At least he knew he worked fast.

He had been heading by the dormitories to borrow something from Ingrid when he had passed Sylvain’s room and saw him. And, well, her. It was a little fuzzy. At the sight of him kissing another girl's neck with her inky black hair wrapped all around his fingers, something in him twisted a little too much, and hurt a little too much. They hadn’t been talking too much recently (well, Felix hadn’t really talked to anyone recently), and so he didn’t know he had a new girl even though he seemed to get a new one every few days. To be honest, Felix hadn’t even seen Sylvain in months. It was to be expected of Sylvain, but for some reason it was weird to actually see it. And Felix hated everyone, but the most irrational part of him had decided at that moment that she was the one he hated most of all, and decided that Sylvain was to be hated right alongside her. 

There was no reason to hate her. She had done nothing to him. But the burning in his chest said otherwise. Felix didn’t remember the last time he had felt this type of fire that clawed at his throat and stomach, that would seek to grow and swallow up reasonable Felix since he had seen his father or Dimitri, and with them he at least had reasons.  
He should learn how to close the door properly. Sylvain had had an issue with that since forever. Felix should have just walked on by, because he didn’t care about it, and that’s what people who didn’t care about it did. But well, Felix cared about Sylvain’s reputation, so if he happened to loudly drop something before moving on it wasn’t because of his shortness of breath, or the sudden need to go to bed early and lock himself away. He thought he saw her gold eyes flick to him, but he must’ve imagined it, because she didn’t remark on it as he hurried past.

The numbness in his fingers made it hard to lock the door and his fingers fumbled on the knob before he collapsed on his bed. He barely could take his shoes off, and Felix was too aware of how his throat felt clogged and his stomach was turning. 

Felix had known Sylvain kissed other people, had done so much more than kissing with other people, but knowing it and seeing it were too different things. It was too much to hope for that the rumors would be wrong of course, but in the end Felix had hoped, and had been let down. 

He had been let down too many times, and Felix frankly couldn’t be let down by Sylvain anymore. If Felix was being honest he hadn’t cared about Sylvain’s reputation, because, well, it’s not like Sylvain had one. And if Felix was also being honest, there was no reason why he should’ve hoped. Absolutely none at all. It was ridiculously stupid of him to hope and completely pointless and meaningless, when everyone knew Sylvain gave next to no shits about anything but getting into girl’s skirts. 

Felix could forget he had though, because it had no direct consequence on his life, and he could also forget about Sylvain’s existence because it once again had no consequence that wasn’t Felix’s overall higher relaxation and enjoyment of life. And that was what he decided to do. Sylvain, to him, didn’t exist outside of the confines of the academy. The Sylvain That Had Kissed Him was a Sylvain that wasn’t at the Academy, and was a Sylvain that mattered even less than the current one did. And something good came out of the sudden swell in his chest, and surge of numbness; Felix was reminded that nothing, much less no one, mattered as much as his training. Felix didn’t disappoint himself, and other people disappointed him, so the ideal solution was to make it so that no one could disappoint him. 

It was easy in theory, and even easier in execution.

  
  


“C’mon Felix, you’ve never had a girlfriend, right? Let’s change that! You have the potential to be a real lady killer, even if never quite to my standard.” Sylvain grinned, winking as cheerily as possible as he stood by him on the training grounds. It had been a month or two since they spoke (at least willingly on Felix’s end) and Felix had more of a want to turn the sword on a certain redhead than hear another word. 

“I said no already Sylvain. Do I have to spell it out? Will that make it easier for you to understand?” Felix kept it curt, landing another swing on the dummy. He imagined it had Sylvain’s face, and the subsequent blow was more violent than his usual calculated grace. He was the most annoying person he ever met.

“But you always say no. We haven’t done anything in a while, don’t you miss spending time with your old pal?” 

Felix could confidently say that he did not miss it. “Maybe there’s a reason for why I always say no.”

“Felix, it’ll be fun.” Completely ignored as usual. “Let’s go, I can get you some dinner too. It’ll be like old times. We’ve been friends forever, and you’ve been single forever. I’m sure you’d have any girl of your choosing if you loosened up a little, and followed my advice. You look so pissed all the time, you need to let off some stress.”

“No.” Simple words would get through better to someone as stupid as Sylvain.

A small part of him whispered that that wasn’t fair, but a small part could be very easily overwhelmed and shushed by the larger whole of him.

It was a surprise to feel the warm hand on his shoulder, and Felix’s sword froze in midair, and Felix thought even his heart had frozen still. It was a stupid fantasy and immediately shattered by the feeling of it speeding up in what Felix would choose to label as annoyance. 

“Felix, please. I miss spending time with you. This will be a fun way to do some good old bonding, and finally find someone that will put up with your constant moping. A girlfriend would do you some good.” He didn’t know how to say he’d never been interested in a girl in his life and didn’t know why he hadn’t, and didn’t even have the _words_ to describe how completely unpleasant seeing Sylvain pick up girls would be. 

His hand was still on his shoulder. They were still too big for his body.

“Are you a complete idiot? It makes sense with how often you’re up some poor girl’s skirt instead of in class.” He could hear Sylvain sputtering before he even turned around, jerking away from his hand violently. Felix remembered the feeling of it holding his, and remembered what it was like for Sylvain to hold him, and remembered what it was like when Sylvain had pretended to care for him in an actual meaningful way when he practiced kissing him, and remembered how different Sylvain had looked then, all color and strong lines when now the clouds dulled him down to muted red and a soft blur, and remembered how desperately he had felt before he had first forcefully forgotten that. It was becoming easier to hate Sylvain and himself when he had thoughts like that, and he finally snapped.

“I’m sick of you talking to me. Does it seem like I actually care about you? What indications have been made to that fact. Tell me. I’m genuinely curious to see if you can figure them out, because it’s not like you pay attention to anything that doesn’t serve your interests. You have absolutely zero priorities or any actual level of caring when it comes to anything other than getting into a girl’s pants, and the ‘priority’ of our friendship has never, ever, been managed to or cared for by you. I’m tired of being forced to stick by your side when I haven’t wanted to for years. For years, Sylvain! I’m tired of it, I’m tired of it, and I’m sick of you!” Felix knew he was going too far, but once you took that step you couldn’t come back from it. He was out of breath at the end of it, and Sylvain’s eyes were flat as they stared into Felix’s. 

If you were going to crack something, you might as well break it too.

“Tell me a time when I gave you a clue that I wasn’t just hanging out with you because of obligation.” It was unfair to Felix, his own demand was unfair to him, and he was being _such_ a shithead right now. There were a few too many examples if Sylvain actually cared to pick them out, but in the moment Felix was just hoping he would be too aggravated or flustered to try to. “Please.” 

His voice broke on the last word, and for some weird reason his eyesight was blurry as he glared as harshly as he could. He left without looking behind, and he thought he could still feel Sylvain’s hands, could still feel that burning in his chest even when the rest of his body was numb.

Sylvain didn’t follow him, and Felix was glad for it, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had. 

  
  


Felix ate alone most of the time, but today was the exception, which he couldn’t say was truly his choice. 

“I’m sorry professor, what did you want to see me for, exactly?” Felix said, his voice flat as he took a sip of his water. Byleth was extremely skilled, and an adept professor despite her rather swift hiring process, but that didn’t mean Felix had a desire to eat his meal or spend more time than necessary with her. She could also unnerve him (though he would never admit it) with the way her eyes would hold his gaze for an uncomfortably long period. 

“It’s come to my attention that you and Sylvain are having an argument.” It angered him how pretty she was with her midnight dark hair as she coolly took a bite of her dinner. He wondered if he looked more like her, maybe Sylvain would like him better. And then he wondered why he thought stupid things like that, and pushed it out of his mind to leave him feeling nothing but irritation.

“I suppose you could call it that. It’s not a big deal Professor, especially not a big enough one for you to get involved.” Felix grumbled, and cut possibly a little too viciously into his steak, which Byleth noted by the way she looked at him. It was the subtleties with his professor.

“Alright, well. I guess it was rather explosive. How did you know, if you don’t mind me asking? Or, why do you even care? It’s not like personal matters such as these are in your realm of teaching.” There was a certain level of niceties he would keep with her, and his healthy respect for her certainly played a part in it. It still rankled him that she was interfering with his personal life. 

Ignoring Sylvain had proved to be much easier after their argument, and Felix could say he felt, well, different. Not necessarily better, not worse. He didn’t feel that tight, sinking in his chest and stomach anymore, and the burning in his chest had cooled from a wildfire to an ember. It also caused him to not feel the bursting sunlight wherever Sylvain touched him, or the quiet ripples that danced over his skin when he heard Sylvain laugh.

He hadn’t heard Sylvain laugh in a while.

That thought made him a little sad.

“Well, I suppose you could recall our last mission. The one where Sylvain was sent to the infirmary, and had to recover for a few days.” Felix sighed and scowled.

“Yes, and what does that have to do with any of this?” His voice was getting a little thin. The memory of it was all too clear for him, seeing the sword halfway into Sylvain’s side and sticking out through the small crevice of his armor. Just thinking of it made him lose his appetite.

“I’m not sure if you remember how he got it, but Sylvain had been distracted during the battle.” He opened his mouth to retort, feeling the agitation building up, before being swiftly knocked down by her next words. “By you.” His stomach turned.

“What do you mean, Professor?”

“Sylvain had been watching you struggle with one of the bandits, when one snuck up behind him as he was running to help you. As I’m sure you remember, you dispatched the bandit easily after the slight confrontation at first, and his wound barely missed his vital organs.” His throat was dry. “So, yes, it is in my realm of teaching when it’s starting to affect his safety on the battlefield, and your’s.” There was a pointed look at his shoulder that was bandaged under his uniform, and he could feel his mouth start to water.

“I see Professor. If you would excuse me.” Felix’s steak wasn’t going down too well, and the nausea in his stomach was rising.

It was a quick run to the dormitories, but he barely got outside of the dining hall and felt the muggy air of midsummer before he vomited. It made his throat and cheeks burn, though the heat in his cheeks was caused by shame, and he was lucky that the timing coincided when everyone was either out at town or in the dining hall. He was bent over, one arm braced on the stone wall that still lingered with the heat of the summer sun, while the other one held his knee. Felix could feel himself retching again, hot tears slowly streaming down his face. He always cried when he threw up, and it was particularly unpleasant with his almost empty stomach.

The feeling evoked when Byleth had those words had not been a pleasant one in the slightest, the fact too obvious. Maybe it was residual feelings of resentment towards his brother, or some unknown trigger that had been pushed to send him spiraling into this graceless state. Regardless, the knowledge of someone being close to death because of him affected him in far greater ways than he had ever known. The sheer terror he had felt when he had turned back to see Sylvain’s elegantly surprised face as blood splattered across his cheeks was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compared to the chasm of horror Felix fell into after knowing it was his fault. It made him physically ill at the thought. Sylvain should’ve taken the hint and fucked off when he told him to. This wouldn’t have happened then.

He had remembered his eyes widening as he sprinted across the battleground, a sword tearing into his shoulder as he ran, the desperation to just get to him as he started to slowly tumble of his horse, and remembered that it was all his fault, all his fault Sylvain would have that scar, all his fault that he had endured something so traumatic, all his fault that Sylvain had gone through so much hurt and pain, because Felix was selfish and awful and terrible, and that the pain he felt when he made eye contact with Sylvain was a fraction compared to what he had felt in that moment. 

And through it all, it was because Sylvain had wanted to help him. Had been worrying about him, and was coming to rescue him when in the end Felix had been more than okay. 

It was absolutely sickening. 

Felix was shaking now, small tremors wracking his body as he tried not to gag again, slowly moving to try and hide himself behind the rows of hedges. His shoulders spasmed as he silently sank into the ground, feeling any strength slowly deteriorate from his muscles. He held his knees and touched his head to them, as wet drops fell from his face to his lap. It was disgraceful, what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop, could barely move in this emotional, weakened state. 

Felix had forgotten what it felt like to truly cry. 

It felt awful.

He supposed it was better than throwing up again physically, but the idea of people seeing him like this made his stomach turn again. The deep sigh he let out was cut off short by the sound of approaching footsteps, and he scowled to try and make himself look as regular as possible. Looking up with bloodshot eyes, he sniffled before meeting a pair of hazel ones. 

His instant reaction was to jump back, his palms scratching themselves on the hard ground, and he rubbed his eyes and gave the stupid red head the most intense glare he could manage. It withered away quickly, but he still tried to keep the iciest demeanor he could. The red blotches on his face would hopefully be unnoticeable, even though it was too clear to see what had happened, Felix hiding like the pathetic person he was and the tears shining silver. He was still forming words as his mouth opened, his mind trying its hardest to find the words, why couldn’t he find the words, as Sylvain beat him to the punch.

“Oh Felix.” 

It was so soft, even after all he had done to him, and it was all Felix could do to keep himself from weeping. It wasn’t the type of love he wanted that filled those words, and that hurt him more than Sylvain would ever know. He hadn’t even known he wanted that type of love.

“You’re a fool.” His voice was cracked, not even cracked, shattered, small gasps accompanying the words. He vaguely realized he was starting to hyperventilate, feeling as if the world only consisted of this moonlight and this boy, here and now, and there were too many emotions descending on him at once. “Trying to save me, only to hurt yourself. Incompetent, fucking stupid _fool_.” The wetness on his face was distracting and there was no end to it, the harsh scrubbing on his face doing nothing to rid him of it. “You- you could’ve-”

Felix couldn’t even say the word. He was babbling, his eyelashes thick with tears, and his heart heavy with words he couldn’t say even if he tried, constantly reliving the sight of Sylvain’s falling body, of the sword tearing into his own body, of the sword that stuck out of his.

“I’m such an idiot. Look at what I _did_ to you. Why are you here when I’ve only hurt you?” While it wasn’t his sword that had gone through him, it might as well have been, and Felix could only look at the ground, afraid that if he looked at Sylvain’s wide and trusting face he might snap completely. 

Sylvain was silent still, the words rushing out of Felix with no warning or control, and that only intensified the tsunami of shame he felt, because control was one of the only things he prided himself on.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry Sylvain, I- maybe it would be better if I just wasn’t here, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, I’m-”

He melted into the embrace as Sylvain grabbed him, his arms strong and warm as they crushed into each other, Felix sobbing into Sylvain’s shirt. His cheek rested gently on Felix’s head, his legs bent as Felix curled between them, fistfuls of his shirt in each hand. Sylvain’s touch was comforting and sweet as one hand held Felix’s head, Felix crumbling apart under it. They felt just like how he remembered, and Sylvain smelled of medicinal herbs and summer and sunlight.

“I’m so sorry.” Felix couldn’t stop saying it, repeating it over and over as he took jarring inhales between each sentence, Sylvain rocking them back and forth while Felix looped his arms around Sylvain’s neck and pulled him as close as possible, burying his face in his chest. 

“I’m so so so so so sorry.” His breathing was ragged, the pounding of Sylvain’s heart through his shirt accentuating his every word, and keeping him somewhat tethered to reality. Each word was quieter, the terrible shaking of his entire body reduced in the cage of Sylvain’s body.

“I know Felix. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you.”  
He only cried harder, still quiet except for the coarseness of his breath. There were only the stars, the moon, and Felix and Sylvain. He briefly thought about appearances, but the awful pounding in his head shut that thought up.

And then, quietly, so softly he thought he imagined it, he heard Sylvain whisper, “I remember our promise Felix. I’ll never break it. I promised.” It took him only a second to remember which one, because in all of his seventeen years, this was the most important promise both of them had ever made.

“Never?” His voice was so meek and small, and Felix hated himself almost as much as he adored Sylvain.

“Never.”

_I love you._

_I love you so much._

He could never say those words aloud, no matter how strong the thought coursed through his body, through his veins and blood stream, through his very being as a person, and the wanting almost cleaved him in two.

And because he could never say them, he sent them up to the moon. _I love you_. 

It was a small comfort, and as Sylvain held him, he sent them up again, and again, and again.

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

  
  


They returned to normal for the most part afterwards, even if there was a slight shift in their dynamic afterwards. Felix couldn’t say he had really noticed it until the night after their last mission since Felix’s breakdown.

He had lain reading a magic book in bed the Professor had assigned him, his restless thoughts rendering the thought of even trying to sleep useless. So, he read himself into a half awake state, his eyes traversing the page without the knowledge truly sinking in. It had gotten far too late when he heard the soft knock on his door, only half asleep. His sleep-addled brain only distantly registered the sound when he first heard it, and it took a second tap for him to actually get out of bed. 

“Hello?” Felix mumbled, the door creaking as he opened it. His eyes widened as he saw the blank eyes and shaky hands. He wordlessly let him in, the door shutting with a faint click.

Sylvain stood there in the middle of the room, soft candle light burnishing his hair into a copper. His hands trembled at his sides, his face frozen in a twisting expression that Felix rarely saw him wore. It was a deep, raw pain, and he felt a restless need to comfort and care for him.

“I had a dream about him,” Sylvain blurted, his hands now moving erratically about his face. “He was- he was-” He took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes almost manic with how wide they were. “We were actually-” 

Felix could barely believe that the sound he made came from his throat, and it pushed both of them over the edge into very different pits. It was easier to comfort Sylvain when his heart wasn’t so heavy with his own thoughts. 

“Come on,” He whispered, grabbing his hand and setting him down on the bed with him. His head fell in Felix’s lap, his hands grappling with the sheets in a pointless wrestling match, while the rest of his body curled into a fetal position like a caterpillar. 

Sylvain didn’t cry, just breathed unevenly and loudly and it shook. It was okay with him though. Felix gently stroked his hair, the words not quite coming to mind as usual. The sight brought back memories of a much smaller Felix and Sylvain in reversed positions after Glenn had died. Their situations were far different, the bonds between them and their elder brothers in no way the same, but it was with a deep understanding Felix could say he knew what he was going through.

“He was terrible Felix. Awful.”

“Nobody deserves to die like that Sylvain.” He could only hope they brought him some measure of peace. If anyone deserved that it would be Sylvain. 

“I just… I just can’t help but think of what could have been. If the roles were reversed Sylvain. I can’t help but imagine,” Sylvain said, and Felix sighed. 

“I know. I know.”

When the candle light burned low, and his breathing slowed and even, Sylvain had fallen asleep in their position. It couldn’t be helped, and Felix thought that he deserved at least a few hours of rest, and that Sylvain deserved to get as much sleep as he needed.

With another heavy sigh, he fell back on the bed and fell asleep himself. It was nice not to have nightmares for once.

It became their new arrangement to go to the other’s room when one had nightmares. 

It happened frequently.

  
  


Balls sucked. They were boring and meaningless, and annoying, and the valuable time it took to get ready for one according to Mercedes was absolutely outrageous and wasteful. 

“I already washed it Mercedes. Why the hell do I need to put all of this in it?” The oil was a lustrous amber, and it smelled nice he had to admit, not too cloying. Mercedes was currently raking it through his hair, humming little songs to herself. It was annoying, irritating, aggravating, agitating, and all of the above doubled. 

“Well, Felix, if you want your hair to look as limp and dull as a dead snake I suggest you let me work my magic. You never know who you'll meet at a ball!” It was disgustingly cheerful, her makeup and hair already perfectly in place. She had already donned a navy dress with white frills, the gold tooling and jewelry offsetting her eyes.

“Sure.” He couldn’t have controlled his eyes rolling. While he would never admit it to her, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this wasn’t so bad of an idea. His mind flashed to the girl he saw with Sylvain a few months back, the pang in his heart sharp. Did she put stuff in her hair? Had she put sweet oils and thick creams on her own skin and hair? He absentmindedly touched a lock of his own hair, and thought about the goop Mercedes had smeared all over his face. Maybe this would be a good thing. Or not. There was just so much going on, and they didn’t have time to throw a ball and lounge around. 

“Ow!” He growled, glaring at Mercedes through the mirror who gave a sheepish smile. The strand she had been tugging was being intricately braided back into some sort of knot with maybe the top half of his hair. 

“Sorry,” She said, and Felix’s expression went back to being pissy. 

It might have been vapid, but the soft blue vest she had chosen for him flattered his narrow body well and the small boost of confidence he gained was nice. The shirt wasn’t much different than what he usually wore, except the sleeves were much more ridiculous and flowy, and she insisted on not buttoning it all the way up. His collarbone felt strangely exposed. The trousers and boots weren’t too out of the ordinary, minus the silver detailing that ran up the leather of the shoes. 

“Mercedes, I look absurd,” Felix said flatly, blowing at a strand of hair that she had artfully arranged to hang in his eyes. Just because it was flattering didn’t mean it was stupid and preposterous for someone like him to wear. He wasn’t someone who wore frilly clothing, or put oil in their hair, or enjoyed parties.

“I think you look stylish.” Her tone of voice was much too aloof for his taste. “Fabulous, even.”

He liked to think he was quite an intelligent person, especially when it came to fighting, and he knew he had to pick and choose his battles.

This would not be a hill he would die on, because Mercedes would flay him to pieces. 

“Is there no chance you’ll let me secretly change?” Felix was far too hopeful, even when he secretly knew the answer.

“No.”

Well that was the end of that.

“I’m done!” Mercedes looked at him with bright eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think I look laughable.” She deflated a little. “There’s too much to be doing right now to be concerned over what I look like for a party,” He deadpanned.

“I think you’re biased. Don’t forget to have fun. I’ll be watching you.” Her smile was bright as she left, and Felix made sure the silk of her skirt was truly gone before fully inspecting himself in the mirror. It felt selfish to care about his appearance when there was so much danger lurking just outside Garreg Mach’s walls. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles though. His hair shined, and the clothes she had picked were of fine quality, and, he had to admit, made his figure sharper and his eyes stand out and glint a little more.

Maybe he looked... maybe Mercedes could know what she was talking about. 

The clock chime made him jump, afraid to be caught looking at himself. He chided himself, and headed out. He could face down bandits and monsters attempting to kill him without batting an eye, but being caught staring at himself scared him. Ridiculous.

If he didn’t go now he’d sit in bed and never get up, and Mercedes would never forgive him. 

It wasn’t as awful as he had thought it would be, but that being said, it’s not like the bar was ever higher than his dead brother rotting in his casket.

He had to admit that they had made the monastery look nicer than usual, the candlelight golden and the music pleasant enough. The crystal glassware cast shimmering rainbows across the room, mirrors placed by the chandeliers to amplify the effect. Felix stood slightly apart from the crowd, slowly sipping his drink and attempting to stop himself from looking for a certain redhead. 

Attempting.

Sylvain wasn’t there yet, and it was tempting to leave early if he wasn’t going to show. It’s not like Felix had any reason to stay. He didn’t enjoy balls, and with his not so approachable demeanor, it was ludicrous to even consider him being approached by anyone other than pre established acquaintances. Felix sighed heavily, resolved in his mission to leave, and made one final scan of the room. His breath got caught in his chest when the fated individual finally walked in.

Sylvain knew how to dress when he felt like it. It made Felix feel less ridiculous, when Sylvain had gone so much further out than he had. The gauzy shirt was patterned with stars and translucent enough to hint at the muscled chest beneath, the dark red pants somewhat loose and high waisted in a way that cut his waist into a smaller shape. The matching coat offsetted his broad shoulders and perfectly styled hair, his tan skin almost seeming to shimmer with gold.

He looked- well, incredible, and there was no way to hide the sudden flush of his cheeks or the racing of his heart that swelled up in his chest like a balloon.

That was, until he saw his accessory. 

His balloon heart popped. 

There was a girl hanging off his arm, her hair dark and long, and expertly groomed into a shiny sheet of waves. Her dress was a deep blue, the slit revealing the creamy skin of her leg and the unblemished or unscarred skin of her arms. Sylvain and her stared at each other, her eyes bronze and luminous, and her eyelashes a smoky fringe he could see even from a good distance away, her full lips curling into a red smile. He had seen her before, many months ago. Sylvain’s hand moved to cover hers, the size difference almost comical.

Felix suddenly felt inadequate, every iota of confidence he previously had draining away like the blood in his face was. It was like he was out of body, gazing down on himself and the girl from above. He could see the scars that flecked his arms and legs, the way his hair hung limply from his head, the way his eyes were dull and forgettable, the way his lips were thin and colorless. 

And then he was back in his body, feeling the chilling and comforting numbness rush down him as he breathed in too stuffy air. Felix didn’t know why he had been waiting when he should’ve expected some shit like this. He started to walk out of the hall, his expression pale but composed with the usual frown plastered on. If Mercedes had given him a disapproving look as he left he couldn’t say he really noticed or cared. Sylvain never pretended like he wasn’t an insatiable womanizer, so why had Felix expected any different? 

What, a fantasy where Sylvain saw him tonight and proclaimed about how handsome and in love with him he was? A small voice whispered _yes_ , and he crushed it beneath those stupid boots Mercedes had forced him to wear. He wouldn’t listen to it ever again. It had fed him such sweet lies tonight, and its judgement wasn’t to be trusted anymore.

As soon as he got outside he took deep gulps of the crisp, cool air, the flimsy shirt no match for the cold of an autumn night. It was refreshing, and bit his cheeks through the numbness, and immediately sobered him up from the pity party festival he was holding for himself. The wind awakened the rational part of his mind, the logic that would push him forward away from the feelings of betrayal and hurt that infected his being. 

“Fuck me.” 

It was lost on the sudden wind, the few remaining leaves swirling in the wind. They reminded him of Sylvain’s hair, and he pretended that the tears that came to his eyes were from the wind whipping at his body. 

Felix stood there for a while, before he went to his room and locked himself up. If there was a knock on his door late at night, as Felix stared at nothing with his head feeling as if it was underwater, it went unanswered and unacknowledged. 

The next morning at breakfast before they headed out to their mission, Annette excitedly recounting what happened at the ball. It was too early to deal with her cheerfulness, and Felix wondered how terribly she would take it if he told her to shut the fuck up. His headache was unreal, his lungs scraping in his chest after he took each breath. Every word spoken was punctuated by a sharp ache.

“So, Felix, how was the ball?” Annette grinned, the eyes of his classmates turning on him. Felix wanted to sink into the floor, or maybe just strangle Annette for bringing all of the attention onto him.

Sylvain’s eyes _weren’t_ probing as they bore into his.

“I didn’t go. I didn’t feel well.” The coughing fit that erupted after he said that gave him some credibility, Mercedes looked clearly confused, and maybe even a little hurt. He avoided eye contact with her especially. 

“Oh, I thought I saw you there.” Annette frowned, and Felix was suddenly thankful for his antisocial tendencies. 

He was about to talk again, but as soon as he opened his mouth the barbed retort died after the coughing started once more. Felix got up to get water, the hacking sounds having reached their peak, and he refused to make look at Mercedes’s doe eyed stare, or Sylvain’s almost relieved look.

  
  


The next time Sylvain and Felix kissed it had been an accident when they were twenty and twenty one. 

In almost three long years, Felix had discovered that war had been a lot different than individual battles. Maybe it was obvious to others, but he found himself numb to everything now. The blankness in the eyes of a body sliding off his sword was nothing anymore, the blood that soaked his gloves barely fazing him once he could scrub it off. 

Of course the blood would stain them forever. Sometimes when he was tired and half awake he could see it dripping off of him in rivulets, splattering on the snow, always, always trailing just behind him. And then he blinked and it was gone again. 

These days, it was always just right out of the corner of his eye.

“Good work today.” The clapping on his back made his exhale even sharper, the cold air making every inhale burn just a little as his breath steamed in front of him.

“Thanks Brignan.” Felix nodded respectfully at the taller man, his commanding officer’s greying black hair stark in the snowfall. The squelching wetness of his gloves made his hands slippery inside the fur, and while he appreciated the compliment, he was itching to get them off in his tent. The snow that had coated them was melting, leaving them to freeze and unfreeze sporadically. Soldiers were lighting fires as the sun set behind a cloud soaked sky, and the heat radiating from them made his frozen sweat drip into his cloak. It was disgusting, and while he liked Brignan as much as he probably could like someone, he hated wasting time talking about menial matters.

“Oh, and Felix, you have a visitor.” The curt nod Felix gave was softened by a wave, the commander used to his mannerisms by now. It was probably his father here with a task or request of him. He sighed.

All Felix wanted these days was to get some fucking sleep.

He ducked inside his tent, the dim interior lit up by candles that he had most certainly not lit. Unclasping his cloak, he scanned the room. His frown deepened before his jaw slackened at the visitor, and his heavy lidded eyes went wide.

That was most certainly not his father. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” It was an awe filled whisper, Felix shucking off his gloves as he dropped to his knees, his cloak dropping to the ground in a heap.

Felix had forgotten just how blinding his smile was. Had forgotten how it softened just for him, the dimple on the side of his right cheek. 

“That’s your greeting after years of not seeing each other? I see your verbal abuse hasn’t vanished with age.” Sylvain was holding something behind his back, his legs sprawled out under the low coffee table with half written reports scattered all over it.

“That’s just wishful thinking on your end. I thought maybe time would make you smart enough to get over it.”

“So cruel. I see why you’re still as single as ever.”

Felix couldn’t stop staring.

Sylvain cleared his throat, and Felix blinked. 

“So, why are you here?” It’s not like the camp was exactly an easy place to get to, the plateau surrounded by steep mountains with few paths that were fiercely guarded. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot.” 

“Forgot what? It’s not like I have a lot of social gatherings to get to.” Felix’s tone was flat, leaning his head on his hand as he sat across him, though he was afraid Sylvain knew him too well to hear that his heart wasn’t truly in it.

“Well, happy birthday Felix. I’m glad one of us remembered.” 

Felix’s jaw might as well have been glued to the floor. That’s right. Pegasus Moon. The twentieth. He had written that on a report this morning.

“You seriously came all the way up here for my birthday.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” 

“Are you kidding? I hope so, because this sounds idiotic even for you. I thought two years would be enough to get over your lack of intelligence.” Feelings came flooding back to him through the numbness, and a small voice that hadn’t spoken to him for years said, _No, he did not wish that he was kidding._

“No.” And then a poorly wrapped gift materialized from behind his back, and was pushed towards him with a sheepish smile. Sylvain began fidgeting, and Felix was beginning to suspect that he might even be nervous. It almost made him smile.

Felix slowly ripped into the package, Sylvain’s discomfort becoming even more apparent the longer it took him to open the clunky present. He couldn’t help the small grin that emerged.

When it finally was open, Felix pretended that his throat didn’t choke up. He took the blade out, red lacquer shining on the handle and sheath. The actual blade was an almost black grey, dully gleaming in the candle light. The sword was turning over in his hands, the hilt detailed enough to be interesting but not flashy. It was perfect. In his hands it was just the right weight, and when he tested his finger on the edge it cut his finger almost like butter. If he smiled like an idiot that was nobody’s business but his own.

It must have cost a fortune. 

“You really shouldn’t have you know-” Felix plastered on a frown, it turning into a real one when Sylvain interrupted him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Too late to return it now. Two week return period, and the trip here took that amount of time already.” His smile was so smug, and the urge to kiss him so intense Felix couldn’t look at him any longer. 

“I was going to get you a cupcake first, but then I realized twenty is an important number, and if I got you anything that had sugar in it you might never see me again.” The shadows became a little more oppressive than usual as Sylvain’s smirk lessened to sharp indifference, his eyes narrowing. “I figure we could all do with forgetting a little bit too,” Sylvain said softly, a heavy bottle and two glasses clinking against the wooden table.

“I don’t drink. Unlike some people, I don’t have alcoholic tendencies.” Felix sniffed, trying to act as if he wasn’t completely amazed by the sword still. His hands had other ideas, running all over the blade.

“Huh. I assume it’s because of the time we raided your dad’s liquor cabinet. If I remember, was it you who threw up all over the thousand year old tapestry? And then cried and ran around in the snow with only pants on, saying how you might as well die now of cold before your father kills you?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow while he started pouring the alcohol, and Felix felt his cheeks warm. 

“If _I_ remember, was it you who got drunk at the Academy and started hitting on Professor Manuela when you were sent to the infirmary because of how utterly inebriated you were?” He retorted tartly, but he still took the glass after Sylvain pushed it his way. Felix in two years still had too hard of a time saying no to him. He was starting to figure out it would always be like that.

_If they survive._

Felix downed the drink.

And another and another. 

When Felix was drunk all of his common sense turned into chaotic energy. It was hard to remain so stoic all the time, so sensible and proper, and Felix knew that best of all. Drunk Felix liked to be laid back, Drunk Felix liked to do weird and bad things that Sober Felix would remember in the morning, and Drunk Felix liked to do whatever he was thinking. 

Right now, Drunk Felix was thinking about kissing Sylvain. 

He wondered if his lips were as soft as he remembered, or if they were cracked and chapped from the winds that lashed at them in the winter. He wondered if even after Felix’s shoulders had gotten broader, and his back had filled out, if Sylvain’s hands could still completely cover them. He wondered if his hands felt like they would burn him if he touched him for too long, and he thought they would because he had wanted to feel them for so so long, and Felix wondered how soft his hair would be if he ran his fingers through it. 

Drunk Felix liked to do what he was thinking, so Drunk Felix grabbed a surprised Sylvain by the collar and smashed his lips against the other’s as he dragged him with him. It wasn’t a very pleasant kiss, but Felix at that moment didn’t particularly care. The kiss was hard, and Sylvain didn’t respond, but Felix didn’t care because he wasn’t pulling away. His fingers twisted in his hair, and Felix wanted more and more and more, but he was suddenly finding it a little hard to breath. That was inconvenient. Felix pulled away, his lips jutting out into a pout. 

“You were supposed to kiss me back,” He slurred. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Aren’t… I’m supposed to be the mean one here!”

“Felix, you’re drunk, I don’t think you know what you’re doing.” Sylvain started backing away from him, his eyes wide. Distantly, he remembered Sylvain was much much closer to being sober than Felix was. Oh. Oh well.

“Of course I know what I’m doing! I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. I’m not _stupid,_ unlike a certain someone.” He rolled his eyes, before starting to speak slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “I _wanted_ to, because _I’m_ in love with _you._ ” It was soothing, almost placating, the way he said it, despite his scowl.  
Huh. Weren’t confessions of love supposed to be happy?

“Felix,” Sylvain said, and his voice was too breathy, too painful for even Drunk Felix to deal with. He leaned forward, his head resting on Sylvain’s rapidly tensing thigh before he could say anything else. 

“I’ve loved you for so so so so so so long Sylvain. Remember the ball? Do you remember the ball Sylvain?” There was no answer, Felix too lost in his memories to even register it. “I think you were the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. That’s not fair Sylvain. It’s really no wonder I ran away.” He laughed, a harsh and dark sound. “It’s not fair that I’m so in love with you and you couldn’t care about me in the slightest. It’s not fair that I couldn’t live without you and you clearly could without me. It’s not fair at all Sylvain, not fair, not fair, not fair.”

Silence and silence and silence for ages. It struck a particular chord that shook and rusted and broke within him.

“Hmph. If you don’t accept my love, _fine_. I’ll just find someone else to take my precious virtue away.” And then he stands, and then he sways, and then he’s down again, toppled over and on top of Sylvain who seems to be far too panicked than what the situation calls for. 

“Goddess you’re stupid,” Felix mumbles, and then his vision goes black.

  
  


“Goddess, I’m stupid. What did I even do to deserve this headache?” Felix griped, snuggling deeper into his furs as Sylvain looked at him expectantly in his bedroll. There wasn’t any room left in the camp for another tent without some rearranging, so Felix and Sylvain had just shared a tent. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a _bed_ before.

“You don’t remember?” 

“No. Is there anything I should remember? Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing in front of Brignan.” _In front of you. Maybe like admitting how absolutely, stupidly and insanely in love with you I am._

“No, you just kind of passed out after a while,” He said, his eyes a little shifty. It might just be sleepiness, or a hangover. Felix was certainly hungover. 

“Ugh, thank the Goddess,” He mumbled, closing his eyes and nestling deeper and deeper into the covers. It was harder to keep them open.

“Yeah.” It was a whisper, and Felix was too far gone to hear what came after it.

Sylvain was gone when he woke up again. The sword was coated in blood the next day. At least he was getting some use out of it.

The next kiss was when they were twenty four and twenty six. Byleth was back. Byleth was back, and his father was dead, and Edelgard was almost defeated. The night before a battle always revealed to him how stunningly fragile his life was. He couldn’t say it was pleasant, but he also didn’t know if it was awful. 

Mostly, he didn’t know whether he cared. 

Maybe that could be what scared him the most. 

“Felix.”

“Sylvain.” He felt a warm presence settle at his side, the campfire secluded by a grove of trees. They were alone.

It was a sticky silence between them, heavy and clogging. Words lingered between them, weighing down on both of their shoulders. It was a while before Sylvain finally spoke. Felix was glad he did first. He had never been very good at using his words for anything other than a hurtful remark or two.

“We have a promise, Felix. We have a promise, and so help me, if you even _think_ of breaking it I will make sure you will never be able to rest peacefully. I will leave cakes on your grave. Cakes. Imagine how awful that would be. I bet a deer would eat it and then shit the cake back on it.” Felix liked to think that the shakiness in his hands was caused by something other than Sylvain’s warm and normally smooth voice all jagged around the edges and grating on his throat. The joke didn’t come out quite right when his delivery was choked.

“I won’t.” Felix looked up at the stars, his head tilted back and neck craning. He couldn’t help but think that the promise they had made as children would turn out to be a sham now. It was so obvious how different the levels of codependence between them were. Maybe it wasn’t healthy, or right of him, but Felix knew he couldn’t live with Sylvain. He knew that if Sylvain died tomorrow it would be the end of the world for Felix no matter the outcome of who won or lost. Felix also knew that if he died the world would continue on for Sylvain. Sylvain could get married with a nice girl, maybe remember him every now and again, and continue on with his life if Edelgard didn’t put him down. 

“I mean it.” His head was bowed, his hands braced on his knees.

“I know you do.” It was simple to lie, to say that he understood when he really didn’t. He couldn’t really understand a world where Sylvain needed him as much as he needed him. 

The fire popped and crackled, the camped area too crowded to hear any lone wolves or wildlife other than the buzzing of insects. 

“I’m in love with you.”

The words were out too quickly, and were regretted so instantly. It was easier to work up a confession when your death was most likely around the corner, easier to be impulsive when you probably wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences.

Sylvain inhaled sharply, hissing through his teeth.

“I have been, for a while I think. Maybe for most of our lives. I didn’t realize for a good portion of it though.” Felix said it as casually as possible, pretending like there wasn’t an immaculately cared for sword gleaming in his tent, and that it wasn’t his most prized possession. Tried to channel absolute nonchalance.

“I know.” And then Felix blinked, cold rushing through his entire body. 

“You know?” And maybe his voice was hushed with something other than the terrible, terrible feeling that was coursing through his veins.

“On your birthday. You were drunk, and kissed me, and told me you were in love with me.” It was so simply said it made it all the more awful.

“Well fuck Sylvain. Maybe you should have told me how much of an embarrassment I was. It must’ve been hard putting up with me, knowing that I’m in love with you. I hope you weren’t too disgusted.” Lashing out was so easy for him, the offensive so much easier than being vulnerable. Knowing that his feelings must’ve been so obvious was like a punch to the stomach.

“You were drunk. I didn’t know if that was the liquor talking.”

“You shouldn’t have kept it from me.” 

“I shouldn’t have, but it was _terrifying_ , Felix. Can you blame me?”

“Of course I can fucking blame you!” The nightlife silenced as the fire shifted, sparks showering to the sky.

He took a deep breath.

“You should’ve rejected me right there in the morning. Goddess Sylvain, you just left me pining? Acting like a twelve year old with their first crush?” That was a bad comparison. He had a crush on Sylvain when he was twelve and he was also his first crush. Felix dragged a hand along his face as he stood up. “Fuck fuck fuck. I’m such an idiot. It must’ve been so obvious.” 

“It was. I’m wondering why you didn’t think I loved you back.” 

“Because you don’t?” Felix resisted the intense urge to run away.

“Because I do!” Sylvain was standing now, towering over him. He blocked out even the moon. 

“Since when? Since you realized you were suddenly into men when one was embarrassingly in love with you? You aren’t even making sense as usual, you fucking idiot. Stop playing such a sick joke on me!” Sylvain was breathing hard, his face red and fists clenched. As he lurched towards him, Felix had the thought that he was about to be hit. He braced himself, his face turned. He wouldn’t blame Sylvain for hitting him.

What actually happened was so much worse but so much better.

The kiss was wild, Sylvain’s hand cupping the entire back of his head and neck while the other laid on his back and pulled him as close to Sylvain as possible. Felix’s eyes were wide, his body stiff with anger before it melted. His arms looped around his neck, twisting into the other’s hair. He almost sobbed, Sylvain’s hands burning through his body.

He could finally kiss him like he had always wanted. 

They broke apart, their foreheads touching as their harsh breath mingled.

“I meant it. I’m in love with you.” It was too hard to believe it but Felix forced himself to anyways.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? You had so many chances Sylvain. So many.” They were so close. Felix could see every different mark and color in his eyes despite the darkness. It was different saying his name when he could say it like he always wanted to.

“I was scared. I didn’t know if you still felt that way. I didn’t realize _I_ did until after Byleth came back. How scared I was of you dying, how much I needed you by my side, how touching anyone else didn’t feel as right as it did with you. And then with the war I just- if it finally happened and one of us died? Felix I-”

“Stop using your trashy pickup lines on me.” He was frowning, but he knew Sylvain could the laughter in the rest of his face. Felix was bad at words, but Sylvain was bad at knowing when he had said too many. 

“Only for you. Only for you.”

“It better be.” Felix smiled, the laugh dying on his lips as Sylvain kissed him again. His smile remained. Not all was right, and maybe they would die tomorrow, but Felix could allow himself these few brief moments of happiness.

They didn’t die. They rebuilt their country, and rebuilt their lives after a long and awful war. A sword was laid to rest on a mantle, a lance left lonely for most days. And after that, Felix didn’t need to keep counting his kisses. He would’ve lost count much too fast anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it! please comment and give me feedback if you have any, and let me know if you want an epilogue. i have one more story in mind following sylvain throughout all of this (with a little bit more after the war), but let me know if that's too much! thank you so much for reading all the way through, it's a long one :)


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